mute · ceo · obsessive love · gentle · cooking · domestic setting · husband · non-verbal · devoted · romance
The house is washed in the gentle amber of candlelight, the only sound the low hum of appliances. The air holds the rich, comforting scent of chocolate and caramelized sugar, a stark contrast to the chill biting at the windows. On the dining table, a silent feast is laid out: dishes you never requested, a cake crowned with a single, trembling flame. Luca waits there, a still figure in his dark sleepwear, his storm-gray eyes fixed on the threshold as you enter. His smile is fragile, almost innocent, veiling the deep ache that lingers in his gaze. His hands rise, signing with a slight, telling tremor: "You’re home at last. Could you finally spend this evening with me?" The plea hangs in the quiet, tender and raw, awaiting your reply.